Arrow: Prologue to The End
by MarvelAndDCWriter
Summary: The Begining of the End starts here. Starling City will never be the same.


**A/N**

**This is the prologue to a story me and Livin4Jesus are writing for the show Arrow (of which we are both huge fans of). This was written by both me and her. Since the general idea for the prologue was by me, I'm posting this part, while the ongoing series will be posted by her. She made a comment that FF should have an author cross-over section (A comment I found to be both hilarious and true). Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!**

Oliver awoke and sat up in his bed, grunting as his bruised side protested the movement. The night before he had had to attend to some 'Hood' business. During the course of taking care of his business he and been forced to jump through yet another window. The force of breaking the glass had bruised his side.

He would have to make sure not to show any pain in front of his mother and sister so as to prevent any unwanted questions. A tired sigh escaped his lips at the thought of his family. He was so tired of all the lies and secrets. He hated the uncaring party boy facade he was forced to uphold. That wasn't who he was, not anymore. He wanted so bad to tell his mother and sister, and Tommy and Laurel, and everybody who he was. But it wasn't safe for them to know. The less they knew the safer they would be. Or at least that's what he told himself to make it a bit easier.

But, easy or not, revealing the truth wasn't an option, at least not yet. So he slipped on his spoiled rich boy mask and went downstairs to see his family. He found his mother in the living room and greeted her good morning.

"Oh, good morning, Oliver," she replied with a smile.

"Where's Thea?" Oliver asked.

"She went out shopping with some of her friends," Moira answered before her phone rang, interrupting them. "Oh, I've got to take this," she said as she looked at the caller ID.

She got up and walked into the foyer. After making sure she was out of earshot, she answered the phone.

"What do you want Malcolm?" she asked, sounding almost bored.

"What do I want?" he repeated incredulously. "The _list_ Moira. Someone has the list. We've been over this."

"If we've already talked about it then why are you bringing it up again?" she replied coolly.

"Because you're the only other one who knows every single name on the list, the same names that are conveniently disappearing one-by-one. It was a coincidence at first, but now... not so much. Care to explain that?" Malcolm asked in an even, dangerous voice.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know," she sighed.

"Well find out!" he snapped. "I'm moving the plan ahead of schedule, my allies will be here within the hour and I don't want any trouble."

"Does...does that mean I can see Walter again?" her voice filled with hope.

"Not until you find the list," he replied.

"I've tried," she said.

"I can see that that your husband's life isn't enough motivation for you. Perhaps the life of your beloved long lost son will be enough to convince you to do as I ask," Malcolm said ominously.

"What?" she asked urgently, but before she could receive an answer, the doors crashed open and the sound of glass braking could be heard as three masked men barreled through the doors and windows.

They converged on her but before they could reach her, Oliver appeared and smashed one of the men in the face with a serving tray. Then he threw the tray at a second henchmen knocking the gun out of his hand. The masked man turned his head to see where the tray had come from, only for the knife, that Oliver had grabbed off the first man, to hit him in the chest.

"Stay back!" the third man yelled. He had Moira pulled to him and a gun pressed to her head. "I'll blow her head off! I know Malcolm won't care, but I bet you'll care, right party boy?"

Oliver tensed. He didn't have time to wonder why this guy was talking about Tommy's dad as his mother yelled at him.

"Oliver, run!" His eyes narrowed.

"No," he said, simply.

In the blink of an eye, Oliver grabbed the knife from the dead thug's chest and threw it at the third man's wrist. A perfect shot. The man cried out in pain, dropping the gun and releasing Moira. Oliver didn't waste a second in grabbing the knife from the dead man's belt and throwing it straight into the third man's throat. He fell backwards, dead before he even reached the floor.

Oliver heard footsteps behind him and turned to see two more mercenaries appear at the top of the stairs. He ran up the stairs to meet them and quickly took one of the men out by kicking him down the stairs, his neck snapping as he flipped over, before rolling down the rest of the stairs.

Oliver quickly reached into his boot and produced a final knife. He was just about to throw it at his last enemy but the man was a bit faster. The man kicked out, and the knife was knocked from Oliver's hand, forcing him to rely on his fists. His enemy was formidable as they exchanged punches and kicks. The guy was more than your average thug. He was a very well trained fighter. But unfortunately for him, he wasn't quite on the level Oliver was.

Oliver quickly got the upper hand and sent a knee to the man's stomach. The guy doubled over but recovered quickly enough to send another punch at Oliver. Oliver blocked it and twisted the guy's arm backward until he heard the pop that signaled the shoulder's dislocation. The mercenary cried out in pain and tried to send another punch at Oliver but the man was becoming sloppy and Oliver easily blocked it by grabbing the man's arm. Oliver yanked on the man, forcing the mercenary to turn one hundred and eighty degrees so his back was to Oliver. Then, without hesitation and almost on habitual reaction, Oliver put one hand on the back of the man's head and his other hand on the man's chin. With one quick movement, Oliver jerked the man's head to the side. There was a loud crack and the he crumpled to the floor, dead with a broken neck.

Oliver didn't even spare the dead man another glance as he stepped over the prone figure and quickly made his way over to his mother. She was sitting on the floor, shaking. He leaned down next to her and gently gripped her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

She nodded slowly.

"Yes, I'm…I'm fine," she lied.

The actual truth was that she was very upset. She never expected Malcolm to send over hired killers to do who knows what to her son. And she certainly never expected to see Oliver take on five trained killers and efficiently and easily dispatch them with no hesitation and no regret. She looked at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time and before she could stop herself she was speaking.

"Oliver… what… how did you...?"

"Mom," he squeezed her shoulders and looked into her eyes, his gaze intense. "I'll explain everything but first you have to tell me what you know. No more secrets. You have to tell me everything."

She looked at him for a moment before nodding, resigned. The time for secrets was over…it was now time for the truth to come out.

**¸¸•*¨*•.¸¸ARROW¸¸•*¨*•.¸¸**

**Next time: "The Beginning of the End"**

**Malcolm enacts his plan to takeover the city, and starts threatening everyone even remotely associated with the Queen family. But a surprising twist will get in the way of his plan. It will all lead up to a confrontation as 'The Hood' fights his toughest battle yet, that will not only determine the fate of Starling City but the fate of his friends and family as well.**


End file.
